


caught up in the way that you played my heart

by colazitron



Series: skam fic trope week 2017 [7]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Sana and Yousef broke up seven years ago and ostensibly moved on with their respective lives. Sana's still apprehensive of seeing him at Isak and Even's wedding. There's something about first love that doesn't let you go. (Or maybe it's just Yousef.)





	caught up in the way that you played my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diamondjacket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondjacket/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein or their creators. I made this all up in my head and am sharing it purely for entertainment reasons.

She knows, of course, that Even, and Isak by extension, is still close friends with Yousef. She doesn't begrudge them that, never wants to be the kind of person who makes their friends choose a side just because of a bad breakup. Yousef is a great person and a great friend, so, sure, while she's glad Isak does her the courtesy of mentioning him as little as possible, especially in the first few months after they break up, she's not exactly surprised to learn he's going to be at Isak and Even's wedding.

“You'll be okay?” Isak asks, sitting across from her at KB.

Sana scoffs.

“Isak, it's been seven years. Of course I'll be okay,” she says.

Isak smiles, but there's a shadow in it, and the look he gives her makes her turn away. Most of the time she's really, really glad she held a stupid seventeen year old boy's weed hostage and made him join a stupid kosegruppe, but sometimes having a best friend who's seen you through practically all your ups and downs has real downsides. Case in point: he can tell when you're not really over someone.

But Yousef was her first love. Surely she's allowed some slack there.

“So long as you behave,” he says lightly, teasingly.

She rolls her eyes at him and smiles.

  


Sana isn't usually the type of person to cry at weddings, but there's something about watching Isak stand there with Even, who is undoubtedly the love of Isak's life, the smile on his face small and so sweet it makes her teeth ache, while Even's is so big it might light up all of Oslo all on its own, that makes her emotional.

Her own wedding wasn't like this, and not just because this isn't a Muslim wedding. It was bigger than this, for one. Amine's and her entire families and friends. A few co-workers neither of them actually cared about. They used the standard vows, while Isak and Even's are full of little inside jokes.

When they slide their rings on each other's fingers, Sana surreptitiously dabs at her cheeks with a tissue. If anyone saw she'll blame it on the pollen swirling around the warm spring air.

  


“Hello, Sanasol,” Isak says, falling into the empty seat by her left while she's wiping chocolate cream off her son's face to her right.

“Hello, Isak,” she says and looks over at him, remnants of that sweet smile still stuck in the corner of his mouth. She doesn't think she's seen it drop once yet.

Yousef's whiny “Can I go play now, Mamma?” is accompanied by a pull on her sleeve and truly irresistible puppy eyes when Sana looks over.

“Yeah, sure, darling. But don't run off where I can't see you without telling me,” she reminds him.

“He's gotten really big,” Isak observes as they watch him race over to where Amalie, Eva and Jonas' daughter, and one of Even's nieces are shrieking with laughter on the swing set.

“They do that,” Sana says with a roll of her eyes. “You just haven't seen him in a while.”

Isak looks a little contrite, but not enough to make Sana worry about guilt tripping him on what should be a guilt trip free day.

“Sorry. I'll have more time soon, now that the Olsen project is just about done,” he says. She knows he's already delayed his honeymoon for the sake of that project, so she's sure he's truly glad to be rid of it soon.

“It's fine,” she says. “I know you're busy.”

Isak smiles at her and then looks out over the wedding reception. It's just the very closest of their friends and family, so it doesn't take long for his eyes to find Even. She can tell the moment they lock eyes without having to check, watching the sweetness bloom on his face like a delicate flower.

“I'm really happy for you,” she says. “It was a really beautiful ceremony.”

“I saw you cry,” he turns back to her to tease.

“You didn't have eyes for anyone but Even,” she retorts, drily.

Isak laughs and shrugs.

“Okay, fine, Eva saw you cry,” he says.

She shrugs as well and looks out over their friends the way he just did. Even's bouncing Noora's year old baby boy on his hip, and Sana doesn't have to look at Isak to know that that's probably a conversation they're already having either. They're going to be great dads, she thinks. Yousef loves when he gets to stay the night with them when she has to work late more than he loves staying with his dad.

She sighs.

She knows she's not really the type to get swept up by love like Isak and Even do, like this whole day proves. With the wind whispering through the leaves and the fairylights strung up over the whole reception area ready to light up the moment the sky darkens, this is something out of a fairytale.

When she got married she got swept up in her mind, instead of her heart. She married Amine because it made sense. They met in class, and he was smart and thoughtful and said all the right things about her intellect and her right to choose her own life, about not wanting to push any number of kids on her or holding her back from a career. They got along well, and he was a nice Muslim boy for her parents to approve of. They dated for a while, did everything right. When he proposed, she accepted.

Then she got pregnant even though they were so careful, and even though they promised to do it together and she truly believes he tried, he wasn't ready. Neither was she, but. Well. She didn't meet actual Sara Nørstellien and leave her husband for a whirlwind romance with a weather girl.

Maybe Sana's life is a fairytale, and she's just not the princess in it.

Isak reaches over to grab her hand and gives it a squeeze.

“You'll find it too, Sana,” he says, like he can read her mind. “You're brilliant and beautiful and your son is a literal angel. Anyone would be more than lucky to share their life with you.”

She makes herself smile and doesn't say that she's afraid she's already found and lost it, because she's sure he knows that too.

“Thanks,” she says instead. “I didn't mean to angst all over your wedding day. You should be happy! Not entertaining my melancholia; I'm really sorry.”

“Nonsense, Sana,” Isak says, frowning a little. Sana hates she's the first thing to wipe that smile off his face today. “Wedding day or not, I'm always going to worry for my best bud.”

She squeezes his hand in thanks and looks back over at the swing set where Amalie is pushing Yousef to make him swing higher, making him giggle in delight. She can't regret it.

“Have you seen him yet?” Isak asks delicately.

Sana sighs and looks out at the wedding guests, eyes immediately finding Yousef, who's standing with Mikael and Vilde by the cake.

“Sure,” she says.

“Talked to him, I mean,” Isak amends.

Sana looks back at him and from the way he looks at her she can tell it's all the answer he needs.

“Try it,” Isak suggests. “You never know.”

Before Sana can come up with a response that encapsulates 'yes, I do know, I know because we've been there before and it all went south so much faster than you can even imagine even though you were right there', Even ambles up to them, leaning down to drape his arms over Isak's shoulders. Isak turns around to kiss him briefly before Even's even said hello.

“Hi, Sana,” he says when they separate. He's still got that smile on his lips, and it spreads to Isak's like he shared it with that kiss. Sana wouldn't be surprised.

“Hi, Even,” she says with her own smile tugging her cheeks back up.

“Can I borrow my husband for a second?” Even asks, and Sana feels her own smile mirroring how Isak's grows at the new title.

She laughs a little.

“Yeah, sure, I didn't mean to monopolise him.”

“He's just too irresistible,” Even sighs dramatically, and takes Isak's hand to help him up.

“Think about it,” Isak says to Sana, before letting Even lead him to whatever it is he needs him for.

Sana sighs to herself and gets up to socialise.

  


“Sana,” Yousef greets her, three hours later when she's sat back down after increasingly exhausting small talk with probably every single person in attendance. Every single person but him, that is.

“Yousef,” she greets back.

His smile is polite when he gestures at the empty chair next to her.

“May I?” he asks.

Sana nods and tries for a smile in return.

He sits and neither of them say anything for a few long moments that stretch like chewed out gum; a little too hard and not something Sana wants to swallow.

“How have you been?” Yousef asks finally.

Sana looks back over to him.

“Fine,” she says.

He nods.

“And you?”

“Fine,” he echoes.

Before either of them have to come up with some other inane question to ask – or maybe before Yousef can say whatever it is he came to say – her own Yousef comes barrelling up to her, smashing into her side.

“Oof. Careful, darling,” she says.

“Sorry, Mamma,” he beams, grabbing hold of her skirts. “Can I have another slice of cake? Please, please, please, please, please?”

“No,” Sana says, pulling out her stern voice even as his face crumples immediately.

“But Amalie-”

“Hasn't already had two slices. You know you'll get sick,” she says. “I don't want you complaining about a tummy ache all night.”

“I won't, Mamma! I promise I won't get sick at all--”

“Yousef. No,” she repeats, and he frowns but accepts it and runs back over to Amalie, probably to steal some cake off her plate, like Sana doesn't know that's exactly what he's up to. She sighs and prepares herself for a tough bed time.

“Yousef?” Yousef asks, when she turns back to him.

Sana can feel her shoulders tense and her face pull into a scowl.

“Amine picked it and what was I supposed to say? 'Sorry, I was in love with a boy called Yousef at seventeen so I'd rather not?'” she snaps.

Yousef looks a little taken aback.

“No, of course not.”

“At least I never think of your face anymore when I hear it,” she adds, balling one of her hands into a fist where he can't see it hidden by her skirts.

“Right,” he says, face closing off. “Sorry, I shouldn't have come over.”

He makes to stand, and like the universe is mocking her, she catches sight of Isak and Even as he moves.

“No,” she says, on impulse. “Sorry, I--”

Yousef stares down at her and she cuts herself off with a sigh, tries to find the right words in the sudden storm inside her head. What do you say to the boy who called you his soulmate when you were seventeen and then left to 'find himself' a year later?

“Stay,” she ends up choosing. “I'd like to talk to you.”

Yousef hovers awkwardly half out of his chair, and Sana holds her breath until he sits back down.

“I would like that too,” he says and tries on a smile that's more than just polite.

Sana does her best to return it. For now, she thinks, that's all either of them can offer. It's a start.

  


**The End**


End file.
